


Quiet

by BrosleCub12



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anxiety, Cuddling & Snuggling, Late Night Conversations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 19:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15825117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrosleCub12/pseuds/BrosleCub12
Summary: ‘Are you okay?’ Bitty asks, keeping his voice low, feeling oddly intrusive; doesn’t want to damage a moment, to destroy a calm that Jack seems to be deliberately seeking. ‘Do you need anything?’Early-morning chats and seeking stillness.





	Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Today marks one year since I discovered Check Please and it changed my life. <3 I began reading this webcomic at a time when I desperately needed it and it continues to educate me about the world and makes me so happy. I now intend to continue the celebrations with chocolate cake, but wanted to write something to commemorate the date.
> 
> Check Please belongs to Ngozi, with thanks for her hard work and creativity in bringing something so wonderful to life. Spoilers for everything that's happened so far.

When Bitty wakes, suddenly, in the early hours of the morning, it’s with a curious feeling of absence and a sense that something – or someone – is missing. He sits up in his and Jack’s bed – still has moments, he realises, when he opens his eyes here and can’t quite figure out where he is, can’t quite believe that he’s sharing his nights with Jack, curling himself up beside him every evening, kissing him goodnight because he _can_ – and looks at his boyfriend’s empty space on the mattress. Hm.

He’s not alarmed – far from it – but he misses him and so he pads down the corridor, firstly to use the bathroom because his bladder is a little full and then wanders on into the pitch-black living-area.

‘Honey?’ he whispers into the darkness. ‘Can I just check you’re here?’ His eyes adjust; he makes out the figure of Jack, curled up on the sofa, looking out towards the night, the lights of Providence, the soft dark ripples of the river. He’s still wearing sleep-pants and hasn’t bothered putting a shirt on. His muscles are all soft lines and shapes in the dark; muscles that shift when he turns his head, gives a thumbs-up.

‘I’m here, Bits.’

‘Are you okay?’ Bitty asks, keeping his voice low, feeling oddly intrusive; doesn’t want to damage a moment, to destroy a calm that Jack seems to be deliberately seeking. ‘Do you need anything?’

‘Nah, I’m good.’ It sounds easy, confident and just as Bitty is about to offer to leave him to his thoughts, to go back to bed, an arm reaches out. ‘C’mere.’

Biting his lip, Bitty wanders into the space. ‘You sure, honey? I don’t want to disturb you.’

‘You don’t disturb me, Bits, just come here.’

‘Okay.’ Bitty pads across softly, making a marked effort to keep his feet soft and quiet; he tends to stomp around sometimes without meaning to, a casual jog that communicates its own excitement, the energy levels that never seem to lower; his head always seems to be working, ticking overtime, needing to bake or dance or laugh that energy out. Jack is very much the same, in his own way, needing to work out his energy and frustrations on the ice, to prove wrong time and time again the voices in his head. They both need to wear themselves out for a good night’s sleep.

Lucky that they have each other for that, then, Bitty thinks and bites his lip as his hand finds Jack’s and he’s tugged down to sit next to him on the sofa. He has no idea what time it is, but he doesn’t need to know; it’s the weekend, the season is over and although he and Jack might go out for a walk tomorrow, there’s no reason to hurry back to bed. He hums a little as Jack kisses his temple, finds the soothing, bare smoothness of his muscular shoulders, twines their fingers together.

‘I’m sorry if I woke you.’

‘No, honey, you didn’t. As long as you’re alright?’ Bitty lets it tamper off into a question, keeps his sentences short. It feels necessary; quiet time. He feels Jack nod, feels another kiss, generously given.

‘I am, Bits. Honestly. I just… when I was alone here, I used to… well. I sometimes liked watching the city like this, especially when I first moved in.’ A little shrug nudges Bitty’s cheek. ‘I was trying to – you know. Calm things down inside my head.’

Bitty smiles, understanding, kisses his shoulder. ‘You were nervous about moving here, honey. I know.’ He smiles gently, recalling early Skype conversations, sensing beneath Jack’s repeated assurances that the team were good, the boys welcoming and Georgia supportive a _fear,_ borne from old pressures, of not being able to find home in Providence, of feeling lonely away from Samwell and all things familiar. It was a fear that had been quelled by Marty’s invitations to dinner, of Tater taking an immediate shine to Jack, both brothers-in-arms from similar backgrounds, of countless offers to take him touring around the city.

Finding home, Bitty reflects, can be difficult. He’s often heard the phrase _go where the work goes -_ but what if you enjoy the work, yet simply don’t like where you end up? He thinks of Ransom and Holster in Boston; feels glad that they have each other to lean on in the scary, grown-up world of corporate adulting. Gladder still, that Lardo has gone to join Shitty while she figures out what she wants to do; they all have each other’s backs. Bitty isn’t sure what he wants, quite yet, but he knows _who_ he wants and for now, it’s enough for him.

‘Feels like we’ve been rushing,’ Jack murmurs then and Bitty opens his eyes in shock, glances up because wait, _pardon?_

‘No,’ Jack, sensing his sudden unease, puts a hand to his back, reassuring, ‘not – not you and me. Just – generally. Just – we’ve been racing towards this goal and it – I don’t know, Bits. It felt like every day I was waking up with this _race_ in my head – don’t get me wrong, I loved it, I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t love it, but. I think I’d like to slow down a little now. Take some time.’

Bitty props his chin back on his shoulder; it makes sense. It’s been a whirlwind season of Jack and the Falconers fighting for the Stanley Cup, Bitty coming out to his parents and then both of them looking after Tater following his injury. Now that the cup is theirs, now that Tater’s leg has mended and he’s returned home, now that Bitty’s been brave enough to say the words and received, at the very least, love and comforting assurances from his mother, things have settled; quietened.

‘Sounds like a plan, honey. Can – do you need me to help you with that? I mean. Is there anything I can do to help with that?’

Jack smiles, a gentle sound of breath in the movement of his mouth, leans their heads together. ‘Nah. Just keep doing what you need to do, Bits. But this might be our last weekend together for a bit,’ he warns, albeit gently, ‘now that you’re Captain, you’ll be taking on a few more responsibilities, believe me. I don’t want you rushing around on the trains when you’re already sorting out the boys and studying, okay?’

Bitty huffs. ‘I’ll be fine, Jack – ‘

‘I know you will,’ Jack interrupts. ‘You’ll be a great captain; you’ll encourage them on the ice, you’ll be kind to the frogs and you’ll be baking for them all the while, I’ll bet. But you’ve also got a thesis to write -’ Bitty gulps, ‘- you’ve got senior year ahead and I just need to know you’re looking after yourself, bud, okay? We can Skype as often as you want and I’ll still be here when you need a break and after you’ve graduated. But just promise me you’ll take care of yourself, eh? Then I won’t feel worried.’

Bitty wraps an arm around his bicep, mouth in a little twist at the prospect of not seeing Jack for weeks on end – but also seeing the necessity of what may need to be sacrificed in readiness for what lies ahead. The thought of being Captain seemed incredible back in May, when his Captaincy was three months away and he only had summer with Jack as his immediate preoccupation. But now that it’s immediate – he’s actually feeling quite frightened.

‘You’re going to be great.’ Jack puts a hand on his knee. ‘Bits. I promise you. You’ll be fantastic.’

‘I just,’ Bitty swallows. ‘I’ve been having nightmares about… about going on the ice and I’m not – I’m not prepared, I don’t have my uniform on, I don’t know where half the team are and then I realise I’m supposed to be baking a pie at the same time.’ He feels the shift of Jack’s shoulders, a slight choking sound. ‘Stop laughing.’

‘Haha,’ Jack says softly, unrepentantly, but puts both arms around him all the same. ‘Anxiety dreams. Yeah, I get those. Always a relief to wake up, eh?’ He props his chin on Bitty’s head, all warm muscle and comfort, as firm as a pillar. ‘That won’t happen, Bits. You’d never leave a pie unattended, anyway.’ Bitty giggles a little; presses a kiss to his chest, sobers at a thought that’s been dogging the back of his mind.

‘What if I forget a play or mess up practice?’ he murmurs because that’s his largest fear; that for all his organisation, he won’t be as good as Jack or Holster or Ransom, that he won’t have the same confident command, or even perhaps the patience. That no matter what he tries, his commands on the ice will go challenged, questioned, or even ignored. That captaining the boys for Samwell will be far too different to what it was like in high school; that he won’t measure up. That the boys will realise they made a mistake when they voted for him as Captain.

Jack shrugs. ‘You think I never had that? Bits, I was playing for myself when we met – I kept yelling at you, remember?’ He grimaces, his face apologetic and they share a look, the glints of their eyes in the dark remembering the same thing: that there was a time when they couldn’t stand each other. That Bitty resented Jack for his impatience towards him, his 110% attitude – that Jack resented Bitty (something he admitted early on, not long after their first kiss) for just being so…carefree; for being able to reach out to the boys in a way that Jack, stern and awkward, couldn’t always seem to do.

‘You just seemed to know what they liked,’ he had shrugged at Bitty during a Skype conversation in June last year, ‘I couldn’t get that out of my head. Everyone liked you and some of the boys on the team blatantly didn’t like me and hated that I’d been made Captain. You charmed everyone.’ Pink had climbed high over his cheeks then, visible even over the webcam and the unspoken _Including me_ was loud and clear in his shy shuffles, his sudden inability to look directly at the screen, into Bitty’s face. Honestly, Bitty had just about _swooned._

‘The point is,’ Jack is saying now, ‘it’s okay to make mistakes; you learn from them and you try again. And you won’t be alone – you’ve got the coaches and Ford to support you and the boys will have your back; Nursey, Dex, Chowder and Tango, especially. They love you.’ He tilts Bitty’s chin up. ‘Just do your best, bud. It’s an old cliché but just – give it your best shot.’

Bitty smiles gratefully, presses into the safety of Jack’s chest.

‘Will you…?’ he coughs. ‘Only… I _may_ need some advice on how to make a good impression during first practice? Some of the old Zimmermann charm might help.’

‘You’ve already given them the Taddy tour, bud, they’ve already had a good first impression of the glorious _Bittle_ charm,’ Jack teases, Bitty laughing softly beneath him. ‘But if it helps, okay. We can talk about that.’

He nuzzles the top of Bitty’s head and they hold each other, watching Providence and its beating heart, the scattered lights like safety all over the city. There’s a small, lighter blue making itself known, far over the horizon; the sun will soon be coming up. Bitty feels his eyes close; not sleeping, exactly, just drifting and Jack, leaning his head against his, seems to do the same for a while, the shared warmth of their bodies like its own blanket.

They lie there together for who knows how long, enjoying the company and the quiet but when Bitty opens his eyes again, the first shy light of a late summer’s day is just starting to peek in and the horizon is growing bluer, more daring. He grunts, sits up a little but Jack just takes his hand, kisses the knuckles.

‘Let’s go back to bed,’ he suggests and before Bitty can stand, scoops him up in a bridal carry; it makes him giggle and he wraps an arm around his neck, lets himself be transported back to the safety of their bedroom and laid down on the covers with such care. He snuggles underneath, watches Jack walk around to the other side and lifts up both his arms and the sheets to welcome him back in, Senor Bun sitting between their pillows like a bodyguard against the invading, approaching sun.

‘Here,’ Jack murmurs and reaches for the controls in his bedside drawer; clicks the button that brings the shades down. Bitty yawns happily, listening to their mechanical hum as they settle the room back into lovely darkness, shutting out the day for a little longer.

‘I love your apartment,’ he stretches out on the mattress and Jack chuckles, turning on his side to wrap him up; kisses his brow, his cheeks, his lips.

‘I love _you,’_ he tells him, as serious as any declaration, as unquestionable as his thirst for hockey. Bitty cuddles into him, rubbing his bicep, feeling contented and loved and so very safe.

‘Love you too,’ he says, closing his eyes in the relaxed hush of their bed, their shared, lovely stillness carrying him away into sleep.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: 'C' was the very first update I read. I feel this brings me full-circle. Thankyou for reading. <3


End file.
